


under waves of gold, it’s you and me

by beanpod



Category: 2PM (Band)
Genre: M/M, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22638907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanpod/pseuds/beanpod
Summary: Truth is Junho knows his vows by heart at this point, is sure they’re tattooed around it, marked into his bones and seeping into skin. He’d write a song with them, ten songs if possible, but somehow this—these words, they belong to Chansung and Junho and their closest people, only to them.This is it, then.
Relationships: Hwang Chansung/Lee Junho
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16
Collections: 2PM OTPs





	under waves of gold, it’s you and me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chan_to_the_ho (curseofpandora)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curseofpandora/gifts).
  * Inspired by [forever i'm yours (forever i do)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17473763) by [averagefaces](https://archiveofourown.org/users/averagefaces/pseuds/averagefaces). 



> a hundred years ago i wrote [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17473763) fic and never finished chansung's vows. phia asked for them as a christmas gift fic and, me being me, only took me 2 months to deliver. i've modified and used a bit of the original stuff, and for once i'm real glad of a finished work ;___; i'm emotional, ok, sshh.
> 
> i really hope you like it, phia!!!!! 
> 
> i listened to [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1DWYb5LrMR5V59?si=PRqENfRGRFWvQIUN9KJFFw) while writing, especially [this song](https://open.spotify.com/track/0chqjQd5B56YfsAJwFfwAg?si=BFz-YX0eSZOlRLkOpWa3Iw) on repeat for the actual vows. god, i miss channuneo so much let me just. weep.
> 
> yes, of course the title is after a ruelle song.

Across the garden that hosts a hundred and fifty guests under a white canopy, Chansung and his mom are smiling and talking in bowed heads. Junho aches for him with such intensity he nearly keels over right here, right now.

He takes a deep breath and Chansung looks up on the exhale, throws a sweet smile at him, mouthing, “You ready?”

Junho grins, mouths “Are _you_?” back, and watches with rapt fascination as Chansung shakes with laughter, frail and soft under the May sun, the breeze in his hair, flowers in his pocket matching the pink of his cheeks. Junho loves him _so much_ it aches physically.

The guys walk in right then, Nichkhun first, grinning and waving at everyone with ease. He stands by Chansung’s party and then walks in Taecyeon, all winning smiles and bows, until he reaches Junho’s side of the altar. Minjun walks past Chansung to head down, pats his shoulder warmly and kisses Chansung’s mom’s cheek, walks slow down the trail of white petals with light steps, and then steps next to Nichkhun.

“There’s no turning back now, fucker,” Wooyoung says next to him.

“Language,” Junho’s mom admonishes.

“Sorry, auntie,” Wooyoung grins, and then makes the way down the aisle as Official Ring Carrier (which he titled himself, Junho had nothing to do with that, he would’ve gone with ‘Frodo’, really).

Chansung goes in first; as he leads his mother into the ceremony, he smiles at Junho, smiles that private smile of his that makes Junho’s chest both ache and soar at the same time, says, loud enough for Junho and a few of the guests sitting at the back rows to catch, “Meet you there? Don’t be late,” and everyone chuckles warmly, warm like the sun on their cheeks, warm like Chansung’s smile and warm like Junho’s heart.

“Don’t get married without me,” Junho retorts, and Chansung grins, wide and pretty.

+

Chansung stands there like he was made for it. He’s smiling softly and paying rapt attention (too much of it, Junho thinks) to the official as she paces the ceremony. His cheeks are tinged a soft pink, so soft Junho wants to lean in and touch them with his lips to see if they’re warm, wants to touch Chansung, touch his face, his jaw, wants to hold both his hands and run his fingertips across his knuckles.

Chansung clears his throat, and oh fuck. Or, right, it’s time for the vows. Okay, cool, yes, Junho can do this. He’s ready.

He can do this in his fucking _sleep_ , is how ready he is.

He takes in a deep breath, swallowing past the knot around his throat. Chansung’s mouth twitches and he just _looks_ at Junho. He’s holding one of Junho’s hands—when did that happen—and when he looks down, it’s like he’s looking at their entangled fingers like they hold the key to the entire universe.

Maybe they do, Junho thinks.

He doesn’t reach for his pocket. There’s nothing in there. He lied, earlier, when Soeun asked if he brought them and had them ready for this very moment. Truth is Junho knows his vows by heart at this point, is sure they’re tattooed around it, marked into his bones and seeping into skin. He’d write a song with them, ten songs if possible, but somehow this—these words, they belong to Chansung and Junho and their closest people, only to them.

This is it, then.

“When you asked me to marry you,” Junho starts —and adds “the first time,” under his breath— “I told you we didn’t need such things: a wedding, guests, cake,” he waves a hand to encompass the whole venue. Shit, his hand’s shaking a little. Chansung smiles like he remembers that conversation, had around a tiny, old kitchen table in an old, tiny kitchen way back when. “I told you we didn’t need any of it because we had each other and that was enough. It was, at least for me, at least then.

“The second time you asked, we were at the top of our game, you, me, the guys.” He throws a smile over his shoulder, and Wooyoung grins back. “I said yes, I promise I did,” he adds and he can hear Minhye giggle a few feet away, “but things got in the way and there was never the perfect time or the right place and, honestly, we forgot about it. We seem to forget about a lot of stuff when we’re around each other; it’s like the whole world is on hold, isn’t it? You and me, that’s all there is. Even they seem to think that way,” he says, nodding at their parties.

Nichkhun laughs the hardest at this and Taecyeon puts in, “But it’s cute, though.”

Chansung smiles at him, nodding, and Junho feels his fingers tighten around his own. “I’ve never believed in _third time’s a charm_ , and that’s why I asked you to marry me, in the end. It was the literal end, too, this big chapter in our lives was coming to an end—and that whole ‘endings are just beginnings’ thing? That is something I _do_ believe in. It felt _right_ , to face the end with you only if it meant we’d face a new beginning together as well.

“I asked you to marry me and you said yes and it’s like everything suddenly clicked into place.” He looks at Chansung in the eye then and Junho’s heart is beating so fast he feels faint. Chansung’s lips twitch, like he _knows_ , like he can read Junho’s mind, every wrinkle of expression on his face.

He says, “I love you so much it’s like my soul is on fire, sometimes. I’ve loved you for so long I can’t remember what it’s like not to, and I don’t want to find out, either. Every morning I wake up knowing I get to love you, my breath catches and just thinking about spending the rest of my life with you makes my heart stutter. I look at you here and now, standing in front of me, beside me, and all I can think about is I’ll never stop loving you, no matter what.

“I understand now why it’s taken us so long to do this—it wasn’t about the time, or the place, or things getting in the way. It was about us figuring out where we are in life, where we are when it comes to each other, and I know now that we’ll always come first, you and me, that’s what matters the most. I don’t care if you forget our wedding anniversary five, ten years down the road, or if after today we don’t celebrate at all anymore—there’s no start date for love and today certainly isn’t ours.”

Junho blinks a little, his eyes suddenly stinging, “I’m _yours_. I’m yours and I’ll thank every day of my life you’re mine, and that you’ve put up with me for so long. You said _yes_ , Chansung, and I’ll promise you now what I promised you then.

“I promise to love you and to be there when you need me the most, and to be there even when you don’t because there’s no way you’re getting rid of me now.” Chansung laughs a little louder, his fingers warm, so warm, his eyes red-rimmed and shiny. “I promise to hold you, always, through whatever it is, whatever it takes, be it your hand or your back, I promise to always be there for you, and with you. I promise to hold your heart close to mine every night and to kiss you good morning like it’s the very first time I’m doing it every day. I promise to walk down every road in life with you, same as I’ve walked down the aisle just now to stand in front of our families and friends and everyone else. 

“I promise to always, _always_ love you, and I promise to say _I do_ for as long as you’ll have me, for the rest of our lives, and then all over again.”

Chansung’s grin is bright, so _bright_ , and Junho loves him _so much_ , god, does it ever get easier, to love someone like this.

“I love you, too,” Chansung murmurs, Junho’s hand clutched in his.

Junho’s not going to cry. He’s not—he isn’t shaking a little and isn’t clutching at Chansung’s hand like he’s afraid he might float away. Junho isn’t about to pass out, especially because if he does Minhye might pop a vessel and the complaining would never end.

Out the corner of his eye he can see Wooyoung messily run a hand down his cheek. Oh god, this is the worst-best wedding ever.

Chansung bites his lip through his watery smile and clears his throat, and oh right, Junho’s about to die. Or sweat himself to death under his suit— whatever happens first.

“I promised you yesterday I wouldn’t cry because I don’t want to look at the photos later and see my face all _bloated_ ,” Chansung mutters under his breath, and Minjun chuckles a few feet away. “Okay,” he says louder, shaking himself a little, and Junho watches as he physically shakes the nerves off his shoulders— god, Chansung’s just _that_ kind of person, isn’t he, always ready to do the right, noble thing. “Okay, it’s my turn now, right?”

The official smiles fondly at him. “Yes, I believe it is.”

“Alright,” Chansung nods, and Junho wonders if it hurts, having such a huge smile on his face. (It really doesn’t.) He squeezes Junho’s fingers gently. “Just so you know, I’m marrying you for your cats.” It pushes an honest laugh out of Junho’s chest and their guests laugh along, delighted.

Chansung continues, voice steady, smile never wavering: “I sort of don’t remember a time when we weren’t together. I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life—we sort of did grow up together, though, didn’t we? At least where it counts, I think.

“It’s been a whole experience, getting to know you. I remember having this conversation with you, about soulmates and better-halves and what-not. I remember you said you didn’t quite believe in all that, and to be honest we haven’t really talked about it since then, but I look at you now, here, standing in front of me with your tiny eyes and that big grin of yours and I believe.”

His smile wobbles a little. “For the better part of the last fifteen years, you’ve been _it_. We’ve had ups and lows, just like everyone else—and that’s what I love about you. You’ve always made me feel normal. You keep me grounded, keep me _me_. You’re my best friend and I’m truly honored I get to be yours, too. You’re my _soulmate_ , through and through and it’s honestly okay if you don’t believe in that, I think I believe enough for the both of us and then some.”

He chuckles, grin so bright. He takes another deep breath, “I’m in love with you, all of you—the cranky you that can’t function properly before eight am on Mondays.” Junho laughs, shaking his head. “I’m in love with the you that cries all through _Finding Dory_ , the hundred of times we’ve seen it. I’m in love with that side of you that cannot stop worrying about stray kittens even after you’ve found great homes for them.”

Junho sucks in a breath, his nose runny, and Chansung continues, “People have been saying how exciting it is, to start these lives together, but truth is—like you said—this isn’t the start. Every single person here knows how deeply we feel for each other, and I truly thank them for being here with us today.”

Chansung’s eyes are shinier now, and they’re watery, and his smile is so beautiful Junho’s momentarily blinded by it.

“I don’t have many vows to make today, except promising to take you for a spin on the dance floor and blow your mind later, and promising to love you to the best of my abilities, every day, for the next ten, twenty, forty years, until we’re both old and wrinkled and living in a house by the sea, nothing else but you and me.” His lips twitch. “We’ll definitely have a guest room for Minjun, though.”

“Thank god,” Minjun’s mother whispers, heartfelt, from the second row, and everyone bursts out laughing.

Grinning, Chansung continues, “I promise to keep all my promises to you. I promise to love and support you, to be your partner in love and crime. I promise to let you win the occasional argument, even when I’m right and you’re only trying to rile me up.” They both laugh, though Junho mutters _I don’t do that_ and Chansung rolls his eyes. “I promise to always try and be the man you see in me and I promise to try my hardest at not letting you down.” He squeezes Junho’s fingers. “You’re my best friend and, at last, you will be my husband, and I promise to always, always walk down every lane in life with you and stand at the very end of it next to you and say yes.”

“Rings, please,” the official says, and Wooyoung steps up to hand them over. She holds them in their tiny, rectangular box, and offers them to both Chansung and Junho. “So. Who wants to go first, boys?”

Junho’s still trying to compose himself and act like he’s not about set to cry his eyes off, so Chansung lets go of one of his hands to pick Junho’s ring. “At last,” he says as he slips the ringer onto Junho’s finger, smiling this quiet, beautiful thing.

With a sigh, Junho takes Chansung’s ring; unbelievable, how hard his hands are shaking as he puts the ring on Chansung’s finger. He laughs when they hold hands and the rings glint together under the sun. “It only took us a hundred years, no biggie.”

“Excuse me, lady official person, but this part is mine,” Wooyoung says with a grin. And then: “Now kiss, motherfuckers!”

Junho pulls Chansung by the hand, kisses his grinning mouth and feels warm, warm, warm.

+

Later, after they’ve cut the cake and after their first dance (“The lack of coordination is _outstanding_ ,” Minjun wails from the side, “how were you even in a boy band for _fifteen years_ , I cannot _believe_ ,”) Minhye pulls him aside by the arm and towards one of the scattered benches near the pond.

It’s almost sunset now and everything looks like dipped in a golden, orange glow.

Junho sighs as she gestures for him to take a seat. “Am I about to get lectured? What did I do this time? I swear to god, it was Taecyeon’s idea to dip Chansung at the last minute, I had no idea he’d be _that_ heavy and fall on his ass. Told you he should stay off the cake tasting-sampling-thing you dragged him to.”

Minhye laughs loudly, “Oh, boy, I’m so glad it’s on video, I’ll watch it every time I feel the blues coming on.”

“Stop bullying my husband,” Junho pouts. His heart thuds in his chest, though—holy fuck, Chansung’s his _husband_ now. Fuck.

Minhye smiles at him, all pretty and soft, “Getting it now, are we.”

Junho sighs, sagging a little in the bench. He stares at the dance floor, where Chansung is twirling Taecyeon’s youngest niece around, so tiny she barely reaches his hip. He’s ditched his tux jacket, and the bow tie, the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone. He’s left on the waistcoat but he’s rolled his sleeves up and he looks relaxed, at ease. Junho’s pretty much on the same boat, but there’s still something itching at the back of his mind.

He watches Chansung and Taecyeon’s niece in quiet contentment, they’re both laughing and giggling like mad and it makes Junho smile fondly; Chansung’s always been good with kids (of all sizes, too) and it’s suddenly something Junho knows he won’t stop thinking about for _weeks_ , because he can _see_ it, he can see a _family_ with Chansung, and he wants that, he wants that so much his heart squeezes itself a little in his chest.

“I want kids,” he says in the silence between him and Minhye, his thumb rolling the gold band on his left ring finger. “I want a family with him.”

Her lips twitch. “Is this something you’re realizing just now? Boy, are you slow.”

“Stop bullying me on my wedding day,” Junho whines, nudging her. She laughs, nudging him back, and he adds, “Not all of us have it figured out, you know. It takes time to see the bigger picture.”

She nods, curling her arm around his and leaning her head on his shoulder. “Did you ever see yourself getting married?”

He shrugs the free shoulder. “Not till the first time he asked, actually. Weird, huh. All it took was one question. And I’ll have you know he didn’t even ask, he just straight out said, ‘Lee Junho, let’s get married’ right before he told me to pass the grated cheese.”

Minhye giggles. “Real romantic.”

“That’s my Chansung,” Junho agrees with a grin. “Weirder still was I wasn’t even surprised. What a little shit.”

“Takes one to know one,” Minhye nudges him again. Junho hums and they grow quiet again, and watch the party once more—with its pretty tent and strings of lights, hanging flowers scattered across the ceiling—he’s got to find time in his day to thank her for everything, Minhye’s gone and overdone herself with the preparations. Everything’s beautiful and Junho’s at a loss for words as to how describe today. Eventually, Minhye adds, softly, “I’m glad you found him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as happy as when you are with him. He’s good for you.”

Junho swallows and swears he isn’t going to cry. “We’re good for each other, I think.”

“You are,” she agrees, squeezing his wrist. “And I know you’re gonna have a great family, too, when you guys get to it.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, heartfelt, and kisses the top of her head. “I know we’ve been talking about me this whole time, but I also know you brought me out here for somethin’, so spit it out already.”

Minhye sighs, lifts her head and stares at him. “Okay, but don’t take it as me trying to steal your thunder, okay.” She adds, before he can say anything, “I’m pregnant. It’ll be twins and I’m freaking out because I don’t think I can handle _a_ child, let alone _two_ , so I’m real glad you want kids because I’m very willing to give you one—”

“Whoa, hey, stop,” Junho wails weakly, and puts both hands on her shoulders. Her eyes are teary and Junho panics because he’s never known what to do when she cries except cry along with her and he doesn’t think that’ll go well. “Minhye. Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” she blinks furiously, “but I’m also panicking a little. I’ve been told it’s called multitasking, and I’ll be doing lots of that soon.”

“Congratulations,” he says lamely, and she laughs wildly, tears at the corners of her eyes again. He grins, hugging her sideways, “I honestly don’t see it as you stealing my thunder. I’m happy for you guys, you’ll be great parents. When are you due?”

“December,” she says, drying her tears with her thumbs. “We haven’t told anyone else yet. Probably over the weekend, we’ll have both families over.”

“I promise to act all surprised when you break it out to them. I’m a great actor, won awards and everything.”

“I know,” she smiles. “You’re allowed to tell Chansung, you know, he’s family now, he has to be in the know of things.”

“He loves gossip, he’ll fit right in,” he nods.

“Speak of the devil,” she grins widely, nodding to the side, and when Junho turns, Chansung’s walking towards them, smiling fondly at them both. “Hello, brother in law.”

“Hello, sister in law,” Chansung grins, his cheeks flushed.

“Alright, I’m gonna take my own husband for a spin, then,” Minhye says with a wink as she stands up. She pats Junho’s head and then Chansung’s cheek. “Take care of my brother, Hwang Chansung, he’s delicate and needs constant attention,” she says seriously while Junho splutters, indignant. “I know where you live. Remember that. If you break his heart, I’ll be coming for your balls.”

Chansung crosses his heart and then Minhye says, “Have fun, boys,” as she walks back to the party. Junho watches her go and then Chansung’s taking her vacated spot, his arm coming around Junho’s shoulders and resting on the bench.

“She okay?” he asks.

Junho nods, leaning into him a little. “She’s pregnant. Just told me.”

“Holy shit,” Chansung gasps, staring after her, too. “Is that why I caught her sick in the bathroom earlier?”

“Probably,” Junho nods. He nudges Chansung with his elbow gently, and peers at him. “Do you want children? Not now, I mean—I mean, later, probably?”

Chansung searches his face for a few seconds and then says, “Is this gonna be _the_ wedding day crisis everyone’s warned me about?”

Junho laughs and rolls his eyes. “No, you dipshit, we had that crisis already when Minjun tried to hit on one of the waiters.”

Chansung frowns, “I don’t think that’s considered a crisis, it happens way too often to call it a crisis—”

“Can you focus on what I just asked, please,” Junho sighs. He waves a hand. “Kids, snot and diapers, a family, school recitals, the whole shebang. You down with it or not?”

Chansung takes his left hand in his, lips twitching. “Do _you_ want that?”

“I think I do,” Junho says, honest, twining their fingers. He exhales loudly, “Listen, it’s not like I just had a sudden epiphany because my sister’s expecting. I think, deep down, I’ve always sort of wanted it, it just hadn’t been that clear till now. Till today, probably. But I’m in if you are, you know.”

“I’m very in,” Chansung smiles, lifts their clasped fingers to his mouth and kisses the back of Junho’s hand. “I was gonna wait till after our first anniversary to bring it up but I’m glad you beat me to it.”

Junho snorts. “Like you’d let it rest that long.”

“Shut up,” Chansung laughs, “I’m extremely patient. Today proves it, if anything.”

“You say that like I played hard to get, you asshole,” Junho sniffs indignantly, smacking Chansung’s thigh.

“You did, though!” Chansung laughs.

“Babe,” Junho rolls his eyes, “I’ve been yours since the beginning. Give me a fucking break.”

Chansung grins, squeezes his fingers. “What a romantic.”

“S’why we’re married now, we’re both super romantic,” Junho agrees. He pats Chansung’s knee. “Come on, let’s dance. Show who’s boss around here.”

Chansung follows him back to the dance floor, their hands still held tight together.


End file.
